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I grind my teeth so hard I think they are going to crack. “How do you still have the video if your old phone was destroyed in the crash?”
“Ah, that's the thing about saving things to the cloud. They stay there even when your phone is destroyed, and only I know the password to get in.”
“Someone could break into your phone easily if they really wanted to.”
“I dare them to fucking try. Don't worry, I'll delete it after today. Because I'll be making a new one in its place.”
“You'll get what you want,pequeño, but don't think I'll go easy on you.” I have too many times as it is.
“I don't want you to.” He slowly strips off his clothes and I finally realize he isn't wearing his prosthetic. He hasn't been using it the last few days at the house but I wasn't sure he'd leave the house without it. He never did. I didn't notice before because all I saw was him.
Falling back into my chair, I don’t stop looking at him the whole time he undresses down to his underwear. Licking my lips, I eye him up and down. “Your underwear needs to come off too. You aren't getting it easy today. This time there will be nothing keeping me from seeing your skin flush beneath the heavy weight of my hand.”
His underwear drops to the floor and he walks closer, setting his phone on a bookshelf on his way to my desk.
“On your belly,pequeño, and you will fold your arms behind your neck and not move until I tell you to, understand?” Taking off my jacket, I lay it over the desk.
“Yes, Sir.”
Those words. The things they do to me when coming from his filthy mouth. My cock stirs in my underwear and I pull my belt free from the loops of my pants. His face turns toward me as he presses his cheek to the desk with his eyes going wide. “What are you doing with that?”
My belt cracks between my fingers and he shivers, closing his eyes before opening them again.
“I'll start with my hand and then end with the belt. You know what to say if you want me to stop.”
“Rojo.”
“¡Correcto!” I run my fingers down his right leg, tracing each muscle I come in contact with until I reach his ankle. “You're doing so perfectly,pequeño. It's like you were made for this.” Made for me.
Leaning over, I press a kiss to his lower back and he tenses, his fingers squeezing tighter around his arm. Smiling, I lay out the belt beside him and roll up my shirt sleeves. His perky ass wiggles in front of me and there are so many fucking things I want to do to it. My mouth waters the closer my hand gets to his perfect flesh. “Look how pretty you look laid out for me like a shaken little lamb.”
Not only does he have this impossible effect on me, I have it on him as well. Enrico is a man who is normally put together, standing tall and strong in front of others to appear fearless. Not when he's with me. Only when we're alone am I allowed to see him in all his forms. My hand comes down on his left cheek with a gentle slap. I repeat the same motion on the other side, earning me a sweet moan. Lifting my hand higher, my palm cracks against his skin, turning it a slight pink.
Trembling, his arms move from side to side over his head, threatening to break apart at any minute. What a sight he is.
“I'm going to let you count the next eight in this round. The following ten will be given to you by my belt.”
“Okay,” he responds, his voice coming out small, almost as if he's a different person from the man who came in here threatening me not long ago. In some ways he is.
“You're doing so good, baby. Keep making me proud and it won't go any longer than it needs to.” My fingers caress his red-tinted flesh.
“Then I can have you inside me?” His words tremble.
“Si, pequeño. You can have me all the ways you want when we're done, but you still can't come until I feel you're ready to.”
Pushing his ass out, his back arches. I laugh at his eagerness and wait until he starts where we left off before continuing. He's already a shaking, blubbering mess by the time we reach the tenth one. “So fucking perfect. No one will ever see this side of you but me. Ever.”
He whines as the belt comes down on his lower back. I keep going until I reach his crack and slide the leather between his cheeks, rubbing it over his hole. “Ah. Please.”
“Please what?”
“Give me my last round.” He sounds as desperate as I feel. I've gotten off in the shower to this very image of him before. At night I lie in bed imagining hitting the most sensitive parts with my flogger until he comes shaking. One day I'll make it our reality.
“Count for me.”
“One…” He bites back a groan when the leather comes in contact with his left ass cheek. His counting is harder to follow the closer he gets to ten. My belt cracks down harder, reddening his skin, and the pretty color spreads on the next hit. He cries out on the last one, writhing against the desk.
Setting the belt down, I kiss his raw flesh, and he rubs his face into the wood.
